That Time I Got Fired
A story of growing pains and self-acceptance
Toxic environments are more common than we think. We all have that one friend who vents about everything going on in their life, but never asks about yours. Or that boss that is so desperately looking for someone to stroke his ego they take credit for your successes. These people aren’t inherently bad, but can be detrimental to your mental health especially over a prolonged period of time. This is something I learned the hard way.
I was raised with the mentality that you have to stick it out. If I tried anything- sports, clubs, instruments, my parents forced me to stay for at least a year. Just one year- after that I could quit, but to a young kid, a year feels like an eternity. This taught me a lot about determination and perseverance, but I also learned to sacrifice my own feelings and emotions for the sake of others. When I got older and found myself in a toxic work environment for the first time, I didn’t see leaving as an option.
What I thought was my dream job quickly turned into a nightmare. Right away the new hires were pitted against one other forcing us to jockey for opportunities by any means possible. This mostly entailed kissing up to the bosses, and faking friendships behind forced smiles. Before giving us adequate training, we were thrown into the thick of it and forced to fend for ourselves with the claim that “experience is the best teacher”. Bullshit. Management would then use this to judge us and our “abilities” in order to make sure that the “best employees” were at the forefront of the company, leaving the undesirables stranded. Management favoritism was rampant and all based on falsified impressions of people they had just met. Above all, we were expected to uphold a façade of togetherness and happiness so as not to upset the customers. We had to be actors, pretending like we were confident, put together individuals so they would trust us and spend more money. We were told to be grateful for the opportunities we were given, that we needed to love our jobs and be willing to blindly follow what we were told. Welcome to the world of customer service.
Needless to say, I really hated it there. I loved and was great at the job itself, but struggled with the management style. I didn’t need to fake my smiles with customers; I genuinely loved talking with them but felt isolated learning none of my coworkers felt the same. Desperate to fit in and make it work, I befriended as many people as I could, but started to make huge sacrifices on myself.
And before you say “that’s just how it is”- trust me. It wasn’t a job at a large corporation, full of lofty promises to employees- this was a job at a small company, in which many people only a few years older than me took me under their wing, pretending to be my friend. While I was grateful at the time, after the fact it was heartbreaking.
For the next part of the story, you need a little background. I’ve never had any problems getting along with others, nor was I ever a troublemaker. I avoid confrontation at all costs, and even feel guilty about jaywalking. Up until this point, my anxious worrying allowed me to be successful in most facets of my life by completely overcompensating. But somehow, despite all of my efforts, in the context of this job, peers described me as bossy, bitchy. When I went to bed early after a long day, I was being antisocial. Constantly, I was forced to disprove stereotypes, and consequently felt guilty when I couldn’t meet the double standard. I was just supposed to accept these comments about myself that were so incredibly untrue, telling myself I would prove everybody wrong when I was successful- and that worked for a bit.
But eventually, it all became too much. Management said multiple times that we could talk with them about anything, so I tried. I slowly began to voice how uncomfortable I was, how these comments really hurt.
“You’re being too sensitive”
“You’re taking it too personally, that wasn’t the intention”
“It is the way it is and you need to toughen up or you won’t get any tips.”
When I tried explaining how unconfident I felt but then was told that everyone feels that way, deal with it. I was doing a great job and they liked me, how could I be upset?
And I believed it. I let others dictate what I should and shouldn’t be feeling. I tried so hard to fit in that I sacrificed my own moral values.
What I know now is that at this point, I should’ve left. Not because I couldn’t do it, but because I wasn’t happy and didn’t need the job. Clearly not the right place for me, but I was determined to make it work.
That was when I was unintentionally “confrontational” in speaking my mind, trying to stand up for myself, and was, inevitably, fired. I apologized profusely afterwards but was not afforded the same grace that I was expected to hand over wholeheartedly to others. Their minds were made up before I even opened my mouth to explain, but I regret not defending myself.
For someone who spends the majority of their free time overthinking and over-analyzing literally every situation in my life, this felt like a nightmare turned reality.
Devastated, my mental health took a nosedive. I couldn’t listen when people told me it wasn’t my fault, that mistakes happen. I was ashamed, scared, and felt like an all-around terrible person. I felt horrible about how I acted; that I was fired for pissing off the wrong person when that goes against everything I try to be as a human.
I should’ve seen it coming.
I should’ve left before it got that bad.
I should’ve advocated for myself more.
It’s all my fault.
The thing is, you don’t always realize all of those “should’ve s” until you’re removed from the situation. A bright flash on a sunny day could be a reflection from a passing car, but on a rainy day it’s also lightning. I listened to what everyone said around me, trusting their words over my feelings. This mistrust of myself only grew after I left, when I felt like I “wasn’t strong enough to handle it”. Desperately trying to rationalize the situation, I blamed myself. Thanks to a trusted friend that knows a lot more about the world than I do, I have now learned that my situation was a form of gaslighting.
And I’m still dealing with the emotional aftermath.
But what if I trusted myself instead.
What if, in the moment, I had the confidence to say, “You know what? Even though this works for other people, even though I can do this job well, I’m not happy here. Business is business, but this is not the right place for me.”
If I left on my own terms, I could’ve avoided the pain that comes after a poor choice, the guilt that comes with being fired, and months spent rationalizing and overthinking everything, desperately trying to find closure where there isn’t any.
Right after it happened, I wanted to go back in time and never say what I said. I would still be at the company, still be making money. And my peers would be none the wiser to how I really felt.
Now, I wish I could go back and leave on my own terms. Up until this point in my life giving up has been bad- a sign of privilege and weakness. But sometimes, it’s necessary. Not everyone wants to listen to you. Not everyone that we like will like us back. Trying really really hard doesn’t mean you will always be successful. Even if everyone around you is happy, that doesn’t mean you are. And most importantly, we all are unique, which means that just because it works well for others doesn’t mean it will work well for us- which doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you. We’re human.
I now know prioritizing ourselves is a sign of strength and security of self. Confidence is something that many of us struggle to maintain, and this situation destroyed mine. Prior to this experience, although I definitely still worried, I knew deep down I was a capable, kind and empathetic person. All of those characteristics still hold true. Perfectionism isn’t possible- we will inevitably make a mistake. The true test of character is how we and others react when those mistakes happen.
I wish I could say I’m completely over it now. In some ways I am- I’ve worked many other jobs since then, had some incredible bosses that I’ve learned a lot from and highly respected. But still a part of me feels different. Maybe it’s a loss of innocence. More likely, it’s a sign of growing up. I’m not a perfect person, nobody is. And being human is the best thing any of us can be.
